


at the quarry

by sapphicshakespeare



Category: IT - Stephen King
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Eventual Fluff, Explicit Language, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, M/M, Richie Tozier Being a Dumbass, Richie Tozier's Internalized Homophobia, Some Plot, someone help me I stayed up until 1:00 am writing this shit, sorry in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 21:15:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23313733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sapphicshakespeare/pseuds/sapphicshakespeare
Summary: eddie visits the quarry, richie surprises him
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak & The Losers Club, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, The Losers Club & Richie Tozier
Comments: 2
Kudos: 20





	at the quarry

**Author's Note:**

  * For [my amazingly anxious and wonderful non-binary pal that is gay as fuck but also asexual af](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=my+amazingly+anxious+and+wonderful+non-binary+pal+that+is+gay+as+fuck+but+also+asexual+af), [CanidSeraph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanidSeraph/gifts).



Eddie inhaled deeply, the cold January air stinging the inside of his lungs. He shoved his hands into the deep pockets of his winter coat, scraping his fingers against the pebbles inside of them. He ran his fingers across the rough, circular surface of the stones, pulling one of them out of his pocket. Smiling to himself, Eddie tried to remember the last time he’d been to the quarry.

_It had been at least three years - the summer they turned 13_ , Eddie thought. Bevvie, Bill, Ben, Stan, Eddie, Mike, and… Richie. Eddie started wheezing, pulling his inhaler out and frantically pressing it against his mouth. He gasped, pressing his hand against his chest, trying to calm himself down. _Get a grip._ Shaking his head at himself, Eddie tried to remember more of that summer.

Beverly had jumped off the cliff into the water before any of the rest of them. She had always been the bravest, because nothing can scare you when you’re already living a nightmare. Ben jumped after her. He’d always had a crush on Bevvie, and Eddie supposed he hadn’t wanted to look stupid in front of her. Next was Bill, then Stan - Stan was always following the leader, taking what Bill said as fact. Except for when he talked about Georgie. 

Finally, only Richie and Eddie remained. Eddie remembered swearing up and down that he would _never, not in a million years, not if you gave him a million dollars, not even if he was offered a brand-new bike, did you know that people can get cholera from bad water, then you’re pooping all day and -_ when Richie had pushed him off the cliff. He had splashed into the water, screaming like a girl, next to Stan. Richie cannonballed down shortly after, howling in delight as he sped towards the water.

Richie. Eddie shivered uncontrollably at the thought of him. Good ol’ Trashmouth _,_ huh? _Why had they stopped hanging out? Oh. Right. His mother._ He grimaced, clenching his fist around his pebble. He’d gotten that pebble - and the rest of the pebbles weighing down his coat pockets - the last time he was at the quarry. The time he went back. 

It was sometime in late August, when everything was sticky and hot, and everyone dreaded the end of summer. He’d somehow convinced his mom to let him go outside, a rare occurrence in Eddie’s household, and had taken off for the quarry. Eddie wished he could call up any of the Losers, but he knew it was a bad idea. After that summer, after Beverly moved away, Eddie’s mom had forbidden him from seeing any of the Losers ever again. They’d all protested this, but Eddie had pushed them away, swearing to himself that it was just better that way. 

Richie had held out the longest. He would follow Eddie after classes, make dumb jokes, invite him to the movies, corner Eddie and ask him why he was avoiding the Losers. Eventually, even Richie gave up. Eddie would still see him in the hallways sometimes, and, although he’d try to avoid eye contact, Richie would always give him a sad smile. It broke Eddie’s heart. 

So Eddie didn’t invite any of them to the quarry that day. He climbed up to the edge of the cliff he used to jump off and stared at the water, cool and peaceful. There was nobody swimming; almost everyone was inside, where the air conditioning was. Eddie sat out there all afternoon, until the sun went down, until it was almost dark out. He knew he’d get in trouble when he finally went home, so Eddie stayed out as long as he could. Finally, when the world around him had turned pitch black and the stars glistening in the sky, Eddie stood up and stretched his arms to the world. He was making his way back home, perusing down the darkened streets of Derry, when he saw it. Not IT - he thanked god that he’d never see Pennywise again - but _him._ Richie. Eddie could barely make out his face, but he could tell it was Richie from those stupid coke-bottle glasses that he’d first started wearing in the fourth grade. The lenses caught the light from the streetlamps and turned a glaring white. 

Against his better judgement, Eddie crossed the street towards him. As soon as he got closer, he wished that he’d stayed away. Richie’s dark hair had grown much longer since the last time Eddie had seen him, the way he carried himself had changed from awkward and lanky to mature and tall, something he’d never imagined he would say about Richie. He looked… _hot_. Eddie’s face flushed, and he was glad of the darkness surrounding him. Richie had been Eddie’s secret crush for as long as he could remember. Sure, he was annoying and dumb and made a million “your mom” jokes, but Eddie was head-over-heels for him. 

“Edwardo, is that you?” Eddie almost jumped at the sound of Richie’s voice, familiar and surprising, and he contemplated running away from him. It was too late for that now, though, because Richie was headed right for him. “Hey hey,” Richie smiled, turning Eddie’s insides to jelly, “It’s the bastard himself, Eddie Spaghetti! Say, I was just thinking about you!” _Just thinking about me? Richie Tozier was…._ just _thinking about me?_

“Don’t call me that,” Eddie instinctively snapped back, regretting it as soon as he did. Richie’s smile wavered as he dropped his gaze to the ground, shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “Uh,” Eddie started, his voice cracking as he spoke, “How’ve - how have you been?” Richie shifted from foot to foot, clearing his throat.

“You should just ask your mom!” Eddie winced at this, remembering how mad his mother was going to be when he finally got home. Richie noticed this and reached his arm out, brushing Eddie’s shoulder.

“Hey, Eds, you okay?” Eddie tore away from Richie’s touch, his face burning red with embarrassment. Richie backed away from Eddie. “Jesus, I’m sorry.”

“I’m fine, Rich. Just tired. It’s late, y’know. Aren’t your parents wondering where you are?” Richie’s face fell for a half-second, then he regained his typical Trashmouth smile. 

“Shit, Eds, my folks know me - I’m always perusing the streets, looking for a fine specimen to rock my world.” Richie poked at Eddie, who was petrified. _Why did he poke me? Is he flirting with me? God, Eddie, focus! Get your head out of the clouds._

“Really,” Eddie asked, deciding to mess with Richie a little, “Is that why you’re walking by the Falcon?” Everyone in Derry knew about the Falcon - it was the only gay bar in town, and just barely that. There were wild stories that circulated around about the kinds of things that went on in there. Richie’s eyes widened, confusing Eddie.

“N-nah Eds, you know my only love is your mom, right?” Richie sounded unsure, as if Eddie had caught him off guard, which was weird, because all Eddie had said was - _oh._ Eddie stared at Richie in awe.

“Richie,” he whispered, noticing the terror in Richie’s eyes, “Are you…? I mean, are you - are you a -” Richie chuckled with uncertainty.

“I’m no fuckin’ fairy, Eds, if that’s what you’re asking.” Eddie had turned bright red, anger bubbling inside of him. _Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid._

“Right. Of course not, Richie,” Eddie snarled, anger searing through his veins, “Of course not. Look, I gotta go. Bye.” As he started to push past Richie, Eddie felt a strong grip on his arm. He swung around, finding himself face-to-face with Richie.

“Here,” Richie had muttered, pressing a small pouch into Eddie’s hand, “So you don’t forget about the Losers. Or me. Goodnight, Eddie Spaghetti.” With that, Richie was gone, leaving Eddie with the drawstring bag, thoroughly confused about what the hell had just happened to him. 

Later, Eddie would open the pouch to find those stones - seven of them - rough, circular, varying in sizes. They were meant to represent the Losers Club; a big stone for Ben, a red one for Bev, one with a star of David etched into it for Stan. Richie had carved a boat onto one, and a sheep onto another - Bill and Mike. He’d carved a poor depiction of his glasses into his own rock, and outlined it with a black marker. Eddie’s rock was the smallest, because Richie just _loved_ to joke about how short he was. Eddie was sure the rocks were from the quarry. Maybe Richie had been there with him that day, maybe Richie had meant to run into him. But half a year had passed, and Richie had made no further attempts to interact with Eddie.

Eddie sighed, pulling the “Richie” stone out of his coat pocket. He traced over the glasses with his thumb, smiling to himself, and shoved the rock back into his pocket. Eddie jumped up and off his porch, his boots crunching the snow. He peeked through the window, crossing his fingers and hoping his mother was asleep. Thankfully, she was. _She won’t even notice I’m gone._

As Eddie strolled through the icy, abandoned streets of Derry at winter time, he wished he still had the Losers with him. Stan would make a pessimistic comment about how the world was as cold as the winter’s day, Bill would say something supportive, Ben would tell them some obscure facts about snowflakes, then blush furiously when Beverly told him she thought it was cool. Mike would trudge along in his work overalls, laughing when they laughed, loving the world around him. And Richie… well, he was Richie. The glue of the Losers Club. He made fun of them, made fun of himself, made fun of the world. Eddie longed to go back in time to that summer, when the Losers were all together, and that was what mattered. 

When he finally got to the quarry, Eddie mused about how he was going to climb up to the cliff. After a long struggle between his traction-less boots and the slippery slope of the hill, Eddie got to the top. Then he slipped.

“Shit!” Eddie pushed his hands out in front of him, scraping them against the ice-covered rocks beneath him. He took a sharp inhale, holding in his pain. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Ugh.” Eddie screwed his eyes shut, mentally reprimanding himself for getting hurt. _She’s gonna kill me. Oh, I’m dead._ Looking down at his hands, Eddie could see the blood welling up out of the short, superficial cuts he’d gotten. He grabbed his fanny pack - which _is_ useful, by the way - and pulled out the tiny first aid kit that his mother had given him for his birthday. He fumbled with it, eventually dropping it into the snow. “Dammit,” he muttered, picking it up off the ground.

Wrapping the now-soggy gauze around his hands, Eddie felt sick to his stomach. _There are so many germs in this, oh my God, oh my God._ He ripped the gauze off of his hands, throwing it into the snow. The blood that was in the gauze spread out onto the snow, tinting it pink. Eddie pulled his knees up to his chest, hyperventilating.

“Hey, is someone up there?” Eddie froze, recognizing the voice immediately. _Of course it was Richie, who else would the universe send to torture me?_ “Hello? Someone there? Hellooo?” Trying to make as little noise as possible, Eddie scooched behind the biggest rock he could find and prayed Richie wouldn’t find him.

“Eds,” Richie sang, poking his head around the boulder, making Eddie jump, “I knew it was you! Haven’t seen you in a while, are you -” Richie stopped, seeing Eddie’s ripped and bleeding palms. “Holy shit. Eddie Spaghetti, what the hell happened?”

“Nothing, nothing, I’m - I’m fine,” Eddie stammered, hiding his hands behind his back. Richie snickered awkwardly, sitting down in the snow; his butt was definitely going to get wet. 

“Whatcha stuttering for, Eds? That’s Bill’s thing!” Eddie smiled in spite of himself, his face flushing scarlet. He glanced over at Richie, who had a satisfied smile on his face. “Are you okay, though? Really?” Eddie nodded, pulling his hands out from behind his back. 

“Haven’t, uh, haven’t seen you in a while,” he sputtered, catching Richie’s eye. Eddie dug through his coat pockets, searching for his Losers Club rocks. “Just, we haven’t really talked since last summer, and -”

“Yeah,” Richie said sharply, cutting Eddie off, “Last summer. I remember.” Eddie frowned, unsure of why Richie had been so defensive. 

“Are you mad at me, Rich? Did I say something wrong?” Richie looked at Eddie with frustration in his eyes. 

“No, Eddie, you didn’t say anything wrong. In fact, you didn’t say _anything._ For half a fucking _year,_ Eddie! Y’know, I honestly don’t know what I ever did to you. You just… you just disappeared after that summer! After all we went through? You can’t make some fuckin’ conversation in the hallways? You could’ve at least explained why you left - I think I - we _all -_ deserved _that._ ” Eddie was stunned. He couldn’t think of the last time Richie had actually been serious with him.

“Jesus Christ, Trashmouth, I just -”

“Don’t - Eddie, don’t you _fucking_ call me Trashmouth when I’m trying to have a sincere fucking… heart-to-heart thing with you. Shit. This is not, I’m not joking.” 

“ _Okay,_ Richie, _goddammit._ I wasn’t trying to, to personally offend you or some shit. I just,” Eddie sighed, “You know how my mom is. She said, y’know, I couldn’t be around the Losers, okay? So. Fucking, give me a break, dude.” Richie snorted and shook his head.

“Bullshit, Eddie. Bull-fucking-shit. You _know_ that if my stupid-ass parents gave any shits about me and told me I couldn’t hang out with any of you, _I still would._ I still _fucking_ would, Eddie! All that summer, Beverly’s father told her not to hang out with us - and you know who that bastard was. So don’t pull that with me, Eddie.” Eddie scrunched up his face in indignation.

“You don’t -” Eddie yelled, shocking Richie, “You don’t _get it,_ Richie! You don’t fucking get it! You don’t live with her!” Richie started to roll his eyes.

“Don’t you roll your fucking eyes, Rich. Do you remember the last time I saw you? On the street? Late at night?” Richie nodded, still visibly angry, but also confused. “Okay. When I got home, you know what was waiting for me? My _mother._ She said ‘Where have you been, Eddie-bear?’ I told her I’d been down to the quarry, and she was _pissed._ She asked me if I’d been with any of the Losers. I told her no. She didn’t believe me. She said ‘Were you with that _Tozier_ boy? Eddie-bear, you know how I _feel_ about that -’” Eddie stopped, refusing to repeat what she had said to him. He cleared his throat.

“That, uh, that _fairy._ I said no, and that’s not who you were. And why did she care anyway? What would she do if _I_ were a fairy? How could she change that? Change who I love? She can’t! Then she slapped me. ‘You’re sick, Eddie-bear, and I need to help you.’ Any guesses what happened next? No? Good. I’ll tell you. I was locked in my room for a fucking _week and a half._ Dear old mom refused to give me food, water, or anything else until I renounced my ‘disease.’ So yeah. I would’ve fucking _loved_ to stay with the Losers Club. But I just couldn’t stand up to her,” Eddie’s voice cracked, eyes wet with tears, “And I still _can’t,_ Rich. I can’t fucking - can’t do anything.” Hiding his head beneath his arms, Eddie started to sob. He felt Richie’s arm snake around his shoulders.

“Okay. Okay. Sorry, I didn’t, I’m _sorry._ From now on, no more ‘your mom’ jokes. In fact, the next time I see your mom, I’m gonna fucking _kill_ her.” Eddie laughed softly, wiping away his tears. _God, I look like an idiot. Richie will never let me live this down._ “Eds, you don’t have to worry about me, uh, telling anyone anything? Not gonna mention it.”

“Fuck,” Eddie whispered, “I’m pitiful, aren’t I?” Richie shook his head, but Eddie still grimaced. “Just, you don’t need to pretend you’re not disgusted by me. I know you think it’s gross. It’s, fucking, it’s whatever. I’m gay.” Richie smiled sadly at him, and Eddie knew he was just trying to make him feel better. _Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Kill me now. I love him so much and now he’s disgusted by me holy shit uggghhh._

“Eddie, stop your racing thoughts. I can see you freaking out. Listen, it’s - it’s fine. I don’t think you’re gross. You’re not bad, or wrong, or whatever the _fuck_ your mom is telling you." Eddie looked up at Richie, seeing the pain in his eyes. "You're not," Richie exhaled, "The only one who feels like that. Not to give Ms. K any credit, but she wasn't completely wrong. I am a little bit of a fairy. A little. Don't get me wrong, Spaghet, I love me some women, but…. sometimes guys are pretty hot." Eddie was taken aback. _Richie? He was… Richie?_

"So, you're… gay?" Eddie asked, moving towards Richie, closing the space between them. "Like me?"

"Clean out your ears, Eds! I said I still like girls! God." Eddie nodded, nervously inching his hand closer to Richie's.

"So, uh," Eddie said skittishly, poking at Richie's hand, "Have you, uh, have you ever kissed a guy?" Richie locked eyes with Eddie, sending chills down his spine.

"No." Richie pressed his palm against Eddie's, intertwining their fingers. Eddie's skin burned under Richie's touch, his pulse beginning to race. "Have you?" Eddie was ready to explode.

"N-n-no," Eddie replied, his stomach a mess of butterflies. He brought his shaking hand up to Richie's face, lightly tracing his jaw. _It's now or never, Eddie. Just do it!_ Eddie took a deep breath and pulled Richie's face closer, brushing his lips against Richie's forehead.

Eddie pulled back, studying Richie's face. _Ugh, that face._ Leaning in once again, Eddie snaked his hand around Richie's neck, taking a deep breath in. He closed his eyes, parted his lips, and kissed Richie Tozier. _He kissed Richie Tozier._

Richie tensed up at first, then melted into Eddie. He wrapped his arms around Eddie's waist, pulling him even closer. When Eddie accidentally knocked Richie's glasses askew and tried to fix them, Richie tore them off his face and threw them into the snow. They tumbled over each other, awkwardly unzipping winter coats and bumping teeth. Eddie pulled away from Richie, gasping. _Holy shit holy shit holy shit._ Eddie leaned back in, but felt Richie push him back.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Richie was unresponsive. He shot up, grabbing his previously-discarded coat and glasses. "Richie? Where are you going?" Eddie stood up, moving in front of Richie, throwing up his arms. "Did I do something wrong?" Richie's eyes brimmed with tears as he shook his head, shoving past Eddie.

Eddie was shocked. He stumbled backwards, tripping over himself and falling onto his coat and landing on something sharp in his pocket. He felt around to see what it was, his fist closing around the "Richie" rock. The anger churning in Eddie's stomach took over as he chucked the stone at the nearest tree, sobbing uncontrollably. 

"Fucking… fucking bastard. You, you, you," Eddie said, staring up at the star-studded sky, "Fuck." Eddie pushed himself up off the ground, grabbed his jacket, and headed down the hill himself. _He is not getting away from me like this again. Absolutely fucking not._ Eddie sprinted down the street, trying to catch up with the vaguely Richie-shaped figure in the distance. _Come on legs, run faster._ He had almost made it to Richie when Richie turned around and saw him. Eddie flung himself at Richie, grabbing his arm and pulling him into the closest ally way.

"Eddie," he warned, "What are you doing?" Eddie's cheeks burned a bright red, his anger bubbling back up.

"What am _I_ doing? What the fuck are _you_ doing, Richie? Running out on me? Look, I get that maybe you are confused and unsure of yourself, but _so am I,_ so you can't just fucking -" Richie snuck his hand around Eddie's waist again, and Eddie forgot how to speak. He tilted his head up to meet Richie's, standing up on his toes so their lips were closer.

"Richie," Eddie whispered, trying to form coherent thoughts, "I’ve been crazy for you for as long as I can remember. If you’re not into this, I’ll leave you alone, but Rich, I think you feel the same way I do. Just - please don't run away again. I know, I _know_ you're scared. I am too. But, uh, I love you." Richie smiled softly, weaving his fingers through the loops in Eddie's jeans. 

"Crazy for me, huh? Wow Eds, that’s pretty gay.” Eddie punched Richie’s shoulder, worry spelled across his face. “But that’s okay. ‘Cause, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I love you too. And I am scared. If you promise not to run away, Spaghetti, I guess I do too." Eddie shook his head, rolling his eyes, moving his hands up to Richie's shoulders.

"Spaghetti. Rich? That is _so_ not romantic. Way to kill the mood." Richie snorted, pouting his lips.

"Really? I killed the mood? Oh, well, I guess I have to go home now…" Richie started to push himself away from Eddie, who scrunched up his face and pulled him back. 

"Just kiss me, Trashmouth." A horrible blush broke out across Eddie's face. Richie smiled mischievously, biting his lip.

"As you wish, Eds."

**Author's Note:**

> haha internalized homophobia go brrrr


End file.
